A musical based on an
iconic supernatural comedy from 1984 is the kind of show we’ve come
to expect during the Cincinnati Fringe. But there’s nothing
expectable about Don’t Cross the Streams, which begins with
that notion and then processes and reprocesses the idea to a point of
ridiculous hilarity.

I’m not inclined to
give you more detail than the program notes about what is “in”
the show. Yes, indeed, there is mesmerizing mindreading, crazy
karaoke, ventriloquist figures, a soulful song (oh my god, it is
really, really soulful) and he does make out with a puppet. You also
learn the secret trick as to how you too can get a one-man show in
the Cincinnati Fringe.

The
box Audrey is trapped in is a theater box office, and she is the
voice on the phone. Audrey’s calling is indeed the theater, but her
goal is the stage itself, not selling tickets to the audience. This
funny exercise in frustration was written by Casey Pilkenton, who
also plays Audrey and recorded all the various voices of those who
call.

Jeanne MamLuft is a
brainy director and accomplished choreographer (and filmmaker), and
it shows. Latitude, at the Hanke 1 performance space on Main
Street, gives MamLuft & Co. Dance the latitude, or room for
maneuver, if you will, to present modern dance in a fresh way.

Chicago-based artist and speaker Rebecca Kling, a transgender woman,
delivers some factual and personal answers as she earnestly covers a
range of trans- and sex-related topics in her one-woman Fringe show,
The
Storms Beneath Her Skin.

In
an age when social media promotes the notion of conversation over
professionally prepared content, this type of show is definitely in
step with the times, but it fails to recognize that a strong guiding
hand and ready wit are needed to pull off this kind of daring
endeavor.

Watching Howard Petrick
perform his self-written, autobiographical, one-man show, Breaking
Rank! was a bit of a time-machine trip for me. Petrick is just a
few years older than I, and his cultural frame of reference —
growing up in the 1960s and resisting American aggression in
Southeast Asia — was very much the same as mine.

From
the opening moment of Grim
& Fischer,
presented by Wonderheads, a two-person troupe from Portland, Ore.,
you know this is going to be something special. A lone figure slinks
on stage to the strains of Mozart’s Requiem,
carrying a black letter. His movements are precise, with the intense
comical elegance you get from the best of the old Warner Brothers
animations.

Steven Strafford is one
hell of a performer. But his young adult life as a promiscuous, gay,
crystal meth addict was one hell of a mess. He courageously and
humorously lays it all out in Methtacular, a monologue of 80
entertaining and unpredictable minutes.